


These Boots (are gonna walk all over you)

by franzwantscoffee (XxWanderlustxX), Llama1412



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Breathplay, Choking, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Enemies to Lovers, Face-Sitting, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Knifeplay, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Under-negotiated Kink, ear sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25985986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxWanderlustxX/pseuds/franzwantscoffee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: Neither Iorveth nor Roche had expected their fight to go like this. Inspired bythis gorgeous art.
Relationships: Iorveth/Vernon Roche
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Iorveth stepping on Roche's throat](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/669157) by izridgeline. 



Look, Roche was aware that Iorveth was not unattractive. The legendary beauty of elves honestly appeared to be pretty true from the elves Roche had seen. But more importantly, Iorveth was _intense._ He was a clever commander, a strategic soldier, and a downright wily foe, and Roche had always had a certain appreciation for that.

He just never thought that appreciation would come out like _this._

The thing was, it wasn’t exactly unusual for Roche to get a little _excited_ during a good fight. It was just a response to the adrenaline and intensity of the exchange. It meant absolutely nothing that it only happened when he was fighting with Iorveth – it was all just a totally normal reaction for a hot-blooded human. Totally, absolutely normal and unremarkable, aside from the slight adjustments Roche had to make for it. His armor covered him well enough that he never worried someone would find out, but it did require some adjustments in his posture so that every move didn’t send his hose rubbing across his half hard cock.

Which was all fine. He was used to dealing with this little quirk of the human body. It was all totally fine.

Until the day Iorveth defeated him. Or at least, Roche thought that’s what this was? Iorveth had gotten a good kick in and had managed to knock Roche to the ground. But it was what came next that changed everything.

Roche was expecting the usual taunting, but he wasn’t actually scared for his life. This wasn’t the first time he’d been “defeated” by Iorveth, and he had “defeated” Iorveth himself a handful of times. Each time, they gloated over their downed opponent and notably did _not_ finish the job. Better the enemy you know, after all...right?

So he wasn’t scared. He was mostly irritated with himself, frustrated at his failure, and curious as to what Iorveth would do now. 

* * *

Iorveth circled around his downed opponent, contemplating his next move. He had to admit, to himself at least, that he had no interest in killing Roche. He _should,_ but he just didn’t. And looking back on their prior encounters, Roche appeared to have little interest in killing him either, despite the way both of them talked big about it.

Nonetheless, there was plenty he could do with Roche at his mercy that didn’t involve killing him. Iorveth just had to decide what exactly he wanted to do.

His decision was partially made for him when Roche made an attempt to rise onto his elbows. Moving instinctively, Iorveth held his sword at the ready and knocked Roche flat again, planting a boot on his throat to keep him down. Roche breathed in shakily and one hand came up to wrap around Iorveth’s boot. But instead of trying to push him away, Roche just...held his ankle. Nothing else. Just wrapped fingers around his boot and stared up at Iorveth with a strange expression that he couldn’t interpret. Iorveth’s eye scanned over Roche’s face and tried to figure it out. There was no fear in that gaze, which was surprising, but what was there – It almost looked like confusion, desperation, and...arousal?

Without really thinking about it, Iorveth slowly applied more pressure against Roche’s neck. There still wasn’t fear in his eyes, which made no sense but was strangely intoxicating. Roche inhaled a trembling breath, his fingers tightening around Iorveth’s ankle until he could feel the pressure through his boot, and then Roche’s whole body shuddered and went limp. The whole time, Roche stared up at him with eyes that held absolutely no fear.

Iorveth swallowed. Had Roche just – had he just – ?

Roche’s fingers were loose around his ankle again, not fighting his hold at all. It was a position that naturally felt powerful, but with Roche’s reactions, Iorveth suddenly felt like he was the most important person on the continent. He noticed that his breathing was starting to come faster and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Roche’s half-lidded gaze. His fingers tightened around his sword hilt and it occurred to him that he could check exactly how Roche had reacted.

Without moving his boot from Roche’s neck, Iorveth angled his sword to trace up the inside of Roche’s leg, just lightly enough to barely be heard as it slid along Roche’s chainmail. Roche took a sudden breath, bodily shuddering again. Iorveth licked his lips and used the tip of his sword to nudge Roche’s armor apart along the slit that allowed him to ride. Now, Roche’s reaction could clearly be seen from the wet stain across the front of the commander’s hose and Roche’s face flushed.

But he still didn’t push Iorveth’s boot away, still didn’t struggle, and still didn’t look scared. 

Ever so delicately, Iorveth pressed the tip of his sword against the bulge under the wet spot. Roche moaned and when Iorveth’s eyes darted back to his face, his eyes were struggling to stay open. Roche’s chest rose and fell rapidly but his head rested casually back against the ground as if his enemy wasn’t applying pressure against his windpipe and his cock.

“Fuck,” Iorveth breathed. Carefully, he dragged his sword tip along the length of Roche’s cock, just barely touching enough to be felt. Roche’s left knee was partially raised and he watched as the man let it splay open, exposing himself to whatever Iorveth might choose to do without fear.

Iorveth swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Roche _trusted_ him. What was he supposed to do with that? What had he ever done to earn such a precious thing as trust from his enemy of all people? Iorveth felt a shudder travel down his own spine and he took a deep breath, eye darting between Roche’s half hard cock inside soaked hose and Roche’s face, open and vulnerable and entirely at ease.

Iorveth clenched muscles he hadn’t consciously thought about until he could feel the way his underwear was growing wet. Now that he was aware of it, his arousal became all he could think about and gods, had he ever been this turned on before? There was a warm heat building in his belly and his own cock was trying to get his attention even as his cunt soaked his underwear. 

“Vernon,” Iorveth heard himself growl and Roche’s answering moan was intoxicating. Fuck, he had no idea what was happening or how he’d ended up in this situation, but he’d never felt anything like the fire burning through his veins at the sheer _power_ he had over Roche right now. The power Roche was _letting_ him have.

Roche’s fingers flexed around Iorveth’s ankle. “I want,” his voice was deep with arousal and Iorveth wanted him to always sound like that, “I want you to sit on my face.”

Iorveth’s breath rushed out of him in a sound that totally wasn’t a moan, and he clenched around nothing, thinking about riding Roche’s face. Fuck, how could he say no?

“Since you ask so nicely,” he drawled and used his free hand to start tugging the hem of his armor up his leg without letting his sword waver from where it pressed against Roche’s cock. Iorveth was wearing hose underneath his armor and he should probably just take them off, but that meant taking his boots off and Roche seemed to like his boot just fine where it was at. So Iorveth bunched the skirts of his armor around his waist and twisted his sword so that he could slice open the fabric at the crease of his thigh. Then he tossed his sword aside carelessly and ripped his hose open at the crotch.

“Holy shit,” Roche stared up his leg at him and his rapt attention had Iorveth feeling both exposed and _seen_ in a way he hadn’t been in a long, long time. “Fuck, do you have a cock _and_ a cunt? That’s amazing.” Roche licked his lips and he slid his hand up Iorveth’s leg, “come on.”

Iorveth didn’t need to be asked twice. He finally removed his boot from Roche’s throat and reveled in the small disappointed sound that got him. But before Roche had time to draw a proper breath, Iorveth settled over his face and Roche seemed more than content to suffocate himself in Iorveth’s folds.

Roche licked sloppy circles around his cunt, and Iorveth found himself squirming and clenching as Roche teased him. Roche’s mouth was warmer than anything he’d ever felt before, so different from another elf doing this and fuck, he wanted that hot tongue inside him.

“Vernon,” he growled and Roche actually _laughed_ against him, the vibrations of which had Iorveth arching with a gasp. 

Roche’s hands slid up his legs like slow and firm firebrands, and then they were clawing at the ripped edges of his hose, tearing it further until he could feel those hands against his skin. Roche grasped his thighs tightly, pulling him down against the man’s face, and Iorveth moaned at the bite of fingernails digging into sensitive skin. The scruff of Roche’s beard rubbed against his thighs and it really drove home just how _human_ Roche was. Unlike the lithe and hairless elves Iorveth had previously been with, Roche was all warm and rugged and hairy and so very, very human. 

Finally, Roche’s tongue dipped just barely inside him and Iorveth didn’t recognize the sound that left his mouth, but it was definitely demanding. He ripped off Roche’s chaperone and sunk his fingers into the loose curls underneath. Roche made an encouraging noise against him, and when Roche finally thrust his tongue up into him, Iorveth couldn’t help pulling _hard_ on the hair in his grip.

Roche moaned and Iorveth shuddered around him, clenching on the warm tongue inside him. Fuck, he could feel how wet he was, could feel the way he was positively drenching Roche’s face, and Roche seemed to love it, nails digging marks into Iorveth’s thighs to keep him where he was. The man was so enthusiastic, making small, vibrating noises against his cunt and licking into him with sloppy dedication that hid clear talent, because Iorveth had never been brought to the edge so quickly in his life, and yet he already felt like he was hanging onto his sanity with his fingernails.

But fuck, it was so good, he didn’t want it to stop.

At some point, he became aware that he was chanting, “Vernon,” over and over again, but he couldn’t seem to remember any other words and the fire in his belly was blazing bright and hot and he couldn’t remember when it had started, but his hips were moving in little rolls against Roche’s face. Roche’s tongue was more talented than he’d ever given it credit for and Iorveth wasn’t even sure what he was doing, but it had him mindless with pleasure, unable to do anything but focus on the human underneath him.

Roche reached around his thigh and warm fingers circled the base of his cock, thumb sliding along the ridge. Iorveth sucked in a noisy breath and every muscle went taut as the tension inside him coiled higher and higher. Then it exploded out in a wave of pleasure more intense than anything Iorveth had experienced before and he was coming all over Roche’s face.

* * *

Roche was buried in Iorveth’s smell and feel and taste and he never wanted to emerge. But just because Iorveth had a cunt didn’t necessarily mean he could go again, and Roche didn’t want to stray into _too much,_ not when it was a miracle this was even happening in the first place. He wanted this to be good for Iorveth, wanted to make the elf feel – well, like he felt when Iorveth had pressed a boot against his throat and stared down at him with a parted mouth. 

He hadn’t realized just how much he’d come to trust the elf over the course of their enmity. That sounded odd, but as he’d researched Iorveth and understood how the elf worked, it had become easy to see what Iorveth’s lines in the sand were – and what would move them. Knowing that, it was actually incredibly easy to trust Iorveth, to trust that he once he established the rules of engagement, he would stick by them. 

The rules of engagement between them had never included death, even though they should have. Instead, they included challenging and taunting each other, fighting and snarling and goading each other into attack. They included all the things Roche had never known he needed in his life and he’d never though this could be part of it as well, but gods, he wanted it. He wanted Iorveth, pleasure, and pleasure with Iorveth.

Iorveth seemed to want the same thing and his thighs still shuddered and twitched against Roche’s head when the elf finally seemed to come back to himself. He was curled over Roche, blocking out everything except Iorveth and Roche had a passing thought that he’d be happy to stay here forever.

Eventually, Iorveth moved enough to allow Roche to breath unimpeded – which was very considerate, but not actually what he wanted right now. He could feel himself hard in his hose again, even though the evidence of his last orgasm was still cooling against him and he wasn’t exactly young anymore. But he’d come so abruptly before that he hadn’t been able to enjoy the build up, hadn’t even known exactly what was happening until...well.

It had made him feel so good, and part of his mind was aware that he was still floating in that pleasure, that he would probably have mixed feelings about this later. But it was hard to care when warmth suffused his body and his fingers twitched with the need to touch.

“Fuck, Vernon,” Iorveth rumbled and the way his deep voice cracked, overwhelmed, sent a shudder down Roche’s spine.

Iorveth shifted, sliding and squirming his way down Roche’s chest and probably leaving smears across the Temerian Lilies and Roche surprised himself by wanting that, wanting evidence that this had happened later. Finally, he could feel the hard press of Iorveth’s cock against his own and he couldn’t help bucking his hips. 

Iorveth rocked back against him, but the hands in his hair held him still as Iorveth licked into his mouth, chasing his own taste. Roche opened eagerly, sucking on Iorveth tongue. The elf made a low, rumbling sound into his mouth and thrust against him. Iorveth’s bare cock rubbed against his through the hose and Roche wanted nothing more than to feel Iorveth against him properly.

His hands were digging into Iorveth’s shoulders, and it took effort to uncurl his fingers and drag them down to his waistline, tugging his hose down until he could wrap his hands around both of their cocks. He couldn’t see Iorveth’s cock, not with his armor in the way, but he explored with his hand, sliding his thumb along that ridge that had sent Iorveth over the edge earlier. Iorveth moaned into his mouth, pulling back to suck on his bottom lip, and Roche could feel slickness gathering on the skin below his touch. He spread it across the two of them and squeezed them together. 

Iorveth was cooler than any human Roche had ever been with, and the combination of that cool relief on one side of his cock and his warm hand on the other side was driving him crazy. His whines were only muffled by Iorveth’s tongue fucking into his mouth, in tempo with the rhythm Iorveth’s hips ground against him. 

Iorveth’s hand tightened in his hair and Roche had never been so glad that he’d started growing out the hair on top of his head. Iorveth’s fingers were long and slim and felt wonderful scratching lightly across his scalp. One hand released his hair – and no, Roche did _not_ make a disappointed sound at that – and slid down to his throat, the bow calluses on Iorveth’s thumb dragging roughly across his skin, leaving tingles in its wake. 

Roche moaned, stroking his hand faster around their cocks. The ridge of Iorveth’s cock pressed against his and the texture had him shivering. He felt breathless, mindless, and that wasn’t helped when Iorveth testingly squeezed the hand around his neck.

“Fuck, yes,” he mumbled against Iorveth’s lips.

Given permission, Iorveth dug his thumb and forefinger against Roche’s pulse, and Roche reeled as his mind went light and billowy, spinning in pleasure. Iorveth kissed him again, sucking the little air he had from his lungs and he shuddered, hand flexing around their cocks. He wanted – gods, he wanted – 

Iorveth pulled back. “Come for me,” he ordered and Roche did, arching with a failed attempt at a gasp as warm heat suffused his limbs. He came over his hand and Iorveth’s cock, and Iorveth seemed to find it hot because he thrust harder against Roche, cock sliding through the mess Roche had made. 

Iorveth loosened his hand and the sudden influx of air and blood to his brain had his body jerking in euphoric twitches as his pleasure crested and continued. His eyes fluttered open to see Iorveth staring intently at him from so close he could see the speckled green of Iorveth’s iris. Iorveth’s eye traced over his face and then fluttered closed just before Iorveth curled down to sink teeth into his shoulder. The elf’s moan was muffled against the fabric of his armor, and Roche could feel his chainmail digging into his skin from the strength of Iorveth’s bite. Fuck, what would that feel like against bare skin? He would bet it could leave a mark that lasted a good while. 

Roche stroked Iorveth’s cock through his orgasm, noticing that his spend came from the ridges of his cock, rather than the tip. Roche wondered absently what that would feel like inside him. He quaked in a full body shudder against Iorveth and his moan was embarrassingly breathy and meek. 

When he finally felt able to breathe properly again and, more importantly, speak without sounding lovestruck, he wiped his hand on Iorveth’s thigh. “Fuck, that was–” He couldn’t think of a fitting word. Amazing. Incredible. The best thing he’d ever felt. A terrible mistake. A betrayal to his country. A really gods damned _good_ orgasm. 

“Mmnn,” Iorveth agreed, finally removing his teeth from Roche’s shoulder and wiggling his jaw.

They lay there in silence for a long moment, neither particularly eager to figure out what happened next.

Unfortunately, before either of them had thought of anything to say, they were very harshly reminded of exactly where and who they were. The bucket of cold water came in the form of one of Iorveth’s elves calling for him loudly, echoed by Silas’s shrill voice calling for Roche.

They met each other’s wide eyes for a quick second and then launched away from each other, scrabbling for their swords. In his haste, Roche completely forgot his chaperone was lying somewhere nearby, instead looking over himself to ensure that the wet spots weren’t too obvious. It was just the kind of dirtying that happened in a fight. That was all. Absolutely all.

He didn’t remember the chaperone until Silas, the youngest of his Blue Stripes commandos, came barreling into the clearing. “Sir! Are you – oh my gods, what did he do to you!?”

Roche’s blood turned to ice in his veins, but from the flailing reactions of the rest of his team as they joined Silas, they didn’t seem to actually have any idea what Iorveth had _truly_ done to him.

“The chaperone! How could he go after the chaperone?” Shorty wailed dramatically. “You elves! Have you no honor!?”

Of course, he yelled this just as Iorveth’s elves caught up with _him,_ and suddenly Roche found himself in the middle of a very awkward staredown as each side tried to determine if they should make the first move. Their men were probably looking to Iorveth and Roche for direction, but Roche’s mind was completely blank, and all he knew was that he _didn’t_ want to attack. What he wanted was to enjoy his afterglow without any bloodshed and he had to figure out how to make that happen fast. If only his brain wasn’t sluggish from two overwhelming orgasms.

It wasn’t helped by the fact that Silas was still staring at him with a dumbstruck expression, not even paying notice to the elves across from them. “You have _hair,”_ he said, voice utterly baffled.

Part of Roche – the part of him that wasn’t standing between eight distracted and off guard Blue Stripes commandos and ten armed and eager Scoia’tael – wanted to smack a hand to his face. What exactly did his men _think_ he had under the chaperone? The rest of him met Iorveth’s eye, licking dry lips as his mind scrambled to remember how to function.

“Tarraing air ais!” Iorveth ordered and before they could react, the elves dissolved back into the forest. 

Roche held up his hand when Ves made a move to follow, and his second in command stopped in place, frowning at him. “Leave it,” he sighed, suddenly desperately wanting nothing more than a nap. 

“Did he do something to you?” Ves asked suspiciously and Roche glared at her.

“They outnumbered us _and_ the rest of your unit is distracted and easy prey. If the elf hadn’t called for a withdrawal, we would have had to.”

She frowned but conceded with a nod, turning to glare at her comrades. “You’re going to get yourselves killed, idiots.” She smacked Fenn, the only one unfortunate enough to be in range.

His men continued to stare at his hair in wonder and Roche groaned and looked around for his chaperone.

“It’s so fluffy,” Thirteen said.

“He’s practically _naked,”_ Silas fretted.

“Can I touch it?” Finch asked.

“Are you all right, sir?” Pillow Tits’ voice was soft, the same tone he used on patients when they needed calming. Did Roche need calming right now?

Mostly he just wanted to luxuriate and sleep, honestly.

“I’m fine. We’ll get them next time. Let’s head back.”

He was met with a handful of sloppy salutes and he scooped up his chaperone, sticking it back on his head.

Silas sighed in relief, snapping a perfect salute before turning on his heel and heading back to base. Thirteen and Fenn made loud mournful sounds.

“You can’t cover up the floof!” Thirteen cried.

Shorty shook his head wildly, “no! He must never take the chaperone off again! My eyes are scarred _,_ I tell you! Scarred!”

“But...poofy,” Fenn whined. “Bet you it’s as soft as it looks.”

“You are not making bets on my hair,” Roche ordered. 

“Why are you growing it out, anyway?” Ves asked, crossing her arms as she stomped along next to him. Considering Ves was one of the lightest on her feet when she needed to be, the stomping was definitely her making a point of her displeasure. She did so hate when the Scoia’tael slipped from their grasp.

Roche shrugged, “no real reason, but now I’m thinking I should shave it again.” He grinned at Thirteen’s scandalized gasp. Given how good Iorveth’s fingers had felt in his hair, he had absolutely no intention of cutting it.

“Ooooh!” Fenn jumped up and down eagerly. “Bets on if our erstwhile commander should keep the poofy poof or switch back to boring?”

“Poofy poof!” Thirteen hollered and Roche reminded himself that his men weren’t _actually_ toddlers. 

“I don’t care as long as the chaperone never comes off again,” Silas said.

“No no, the world only makes sense when _I’m_ the one with luscious locks!” Shorty flipped his shoulder length hair in demonstration.

“You realize your bets have no bearing on what I do with my hair,” Roche pointed out.

“Lies.” Fenn shook his coin pouch and they could all hear the click of metal. “Place your bets now, and if shaving hair wins, this week’s betting pool winner gets to do the honors!”

“There’s no way I’m trusting any of you near my head with a razor.”

Finch snorted. “If any of us wanted you dead, we’d strike when you’re asleep, not when shaving you.”

“Yeah, you sleep like the dead,” Ves agreed.

“Okay, not sleeping tonight.” Roche decided, even as longing for a nap pulled at him. Maybe he could sleep in his office?

“I thought your hair was lovely, sir,” Pillow Tits smiled at him. “Whether you choose to cut it or not, please know that you are always able to be yourself with us. You can take off your chaperone whenever you want.”

His voice was so earnest that Roche felt kind of bad that his immediate response was, “I’m good.” Still, Pillow Tits patted him on the shoulder, incredibly gentle for a man of his size and bulk.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, sir.”

“Thanks, PT.”

The Blue Stripes Commandos slowly made their way back through the forest down the path to the Ellander army base. Just when they were about to walk into their command center, Finch piped up.

“Hey, was it just me, or did Iorveth look a bit worse for wear? Good on you, Bossman.”

Roche grinned. Iorveth had _definitely_ looked like a mess, more than they knew. He wondered what it was like for the elf, to walk home in ripped hose, thighs slick and the inside of his armor probably stained with Roche’s cum. Roche bit his lip. Was it wrong to hope that whatever oddity had resulted in today repeated itself sometime in the future? Because he really did want to know what Iorveth would feel like inside him and fuck, he hadn’t even gotten his mouth on Iorveth’s cock. 

He licked his lips and inhaled the scent of Iorveth’s wetness dried on his face. Maybe he’d hold off on cleaning his face, just for a little while. Just for long enough that he could find some privacy and really think about what had happened, remember the way Iorveth’s boot had felt on his throat.

He swallowed. Yes, he would need to find somewhere private soon. Part of him hoped Iorveth was having a similar problem. Just because he wanted company in his misery, of course, not because he hoped Iorveth looked back on their encounter with the same thrill of pleasure that Roche did.

Their next meeting would certainly be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tarraing air ais = withdraw in Scottish Gaelic, according to Google Translate.
> 
> Check out the next chapter for gorgeous art by XxWanderlustxX!


	2. Art

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up to Llama and void talking about face sitting in the rarepair discord and I had to draw it, enjoy!


End file.
